What My Hands Could Do
by ImperfectSystem
Summary: If there is one thing, that hands could say so much more than words...they can welcome, beg and pray...And hands heal more effectively than words,a touch of reassurance, of the future, away from pain. That's the magic in hands my love.


_I own nothing and nor do i wish to. My opinions are mine alone and that is what makes me, well, me. Merlin the series may not be mine but Merlin the character, the idea, the person belongs to everyone who believes him to be a symbol of light in an age of magic._

Morgana stared at the sky before her. The sight was mesmerizing- the dark blue sky was occupied completely by twinkling spots of light, the moon in the centre and nothing but stillness in the night. She lay there, on the green grass by a glistening lake. She lay there with company, a man. She looked at this man; with pale white skin, deep blue and concentrated eyes, black hair. She would have quickly identified him as the but a mere servant...but look at them.

"I am at the moment a hand magician," said Merlin who sat up and looked at her with amusement.

Morgana stared at him, her man, her love. "A hand magician?" she asked him hiding her adoration of the warlock with curiosity.

"Yes see there are usually three stages of magic," professor Merlin started, "Those who use incantations through the mouth are the common ones, they need to use words and sometimes hand gestures but more importantly they need to concentrate," Merlin then raised his hand, enclosed in a fist, "Blostma," he then said in a raspy sort of whisper and his eyes flashed for a few seconds, a colour of gold.

He offered Morgana the enclosed fist and he opened it. Morgana peered and saw a red rose flower grow from the stem to the petal in his hand. The Lady Morgana gasped in wonder and took the offered rose. She felt a blush creep up and felt rather embarassed but when she saw Merlin's cheeks grow a shade of pink like her, she eased up a notch. "So there's magic in the hands?"

Merlin shrugged and looked a his two white hands, "Well, if there is one thing, that hands could say so much more than words...they can welcome," he layed his hands out like he was offering embrace, "beg and pray," he made a gesture of what he saw Christians sometimes do.

All the while Morgana listened intently and stared into his eyes. He was such a wise young man, too wise as Arthur sometimes made clear.

"Hands can move more things than words, it can not just give, but can take an offer of feeling," with that Merlin pointed his hands to the sky and for a moment she could have sworn she saw the moon moving. From her view she saw him position his fingers around the round light in the night sky and there she saw him move the moon up and down. Morgana gasped again. Then there was a gold object on his finger that grabbed her attention. A small golden ring, plain and simple and yet she knew it said more as she looked at her own finger that occupied a twin to Merlin's ring. "While your mouth could wish something," the warlock suddenly closed his hands back into a fist and all of a sudden it became dark. Merlin brought his hand to her and a bright light appeared in his palm as he opened it. Merlin had taken the moon's glow. "Your hands could take it."

The Lady of Camelot smiled brightly at her husband. They did this on a regular basis, just laying down on the grass and watched the night pass them while they talked, just talked, about the future, the past, what they wished and hoped for. Sometimes they would just talk about themselves or each other. What makes them who they were. She loved those moments she would share with him. Sometimes however she would hate them when her husband would remind her of the reason they go out of Camelot always in the cover of night, why they insisted on having their wedding a secret, held in the Isle of the Blessed with Hunith, Gwen and Morgause as the only witnesses. She was a Lady of the Court and he was a servant, no matter how powerful Morgana knew Merlin was, he was always a servant. Although he did not mind saving the world and then keeping it a secret from the public, letting someone else take the credit, Morgana knew that keeping their relationship hidden was breaking him.

They both knew that Uther Pendragon would one day order her to be wed and on that day they would have a limited aray of choices: They could come clean and tell everyone everything, the could just stay quiet and let things unfold but one choice that tempted them so much was for them to run away. There was a small cut and stain of blood under her jaw where the witchfinder Aredian had held his blade against. Merlin placed a hand on the wound casuing her to flinch for a moment. He then placed the other hand on top and closed his eyes. "And hands can heal you more effectively than words," her dearly beloved yet shy and mysterious husband smiled, "a touch of reassurance, of the future, away from pain," He released his hands from her neck to allow her to feel round. There was nothing there. The cut that was once smudged with her blood was gone, not a scratch was left. Morgana smiled, Merlin's hands had healed her, Her husband's hands. Merlin gently ran his fingers down her left cheek and she shivered at his contact.

Morgana sighed, eyes closed, she could not bere it any longer. The Lady of Camelot got up and grabbed the back of her husband's head and pressed her waiting lips onto his.

Merlin smiled through the kiss, he had never been happier than to have found her- someone he could share his powers with, his gifts. The warlock knew that as long as he had her with him, he could save the world and have someone else reap the rewards, time and time again.

It was a good feeling...to love and be loved sakely for the sake of love itself. Pure and true. These feelings were what had helped lightened her sleep more, it did not take away her nightmares, it merely lessen its effects on her. Morgana could now keep dreaming the glimpse of a future without waking up in shock and horror, she would see it fully before backing away, she would use them to aide her hardworking husband in saving their world, their Camelot.

"Life seems...somewhat simpler when your in love," he said to her after they had parted their lips.

"Love is simpler, Merlin. Pure love."

Merlin took her hands into his and they stared at each other. Nothing but the song of crickets and birds, arriving to pay witness to the undying love between the two sorcerers. They continued to look deep into each other and Merlin felt a pang of saddness as he realised the lateness of the hour. Morgana knew what he was thinking and could not help but sigh away in mesery. Uther would come back into their lives in the morning and barricade him from her. "I love you Morgana, me darling wife. Simply," he felt pride in his words as he said them and felt the magic swirling through their hands, still locked in contact.

"And I love you Merlin, my dashingly perfact husband," she smiled and kissed him again. She looked at their rings again, a symbol of their love and bond, a simple yet powerful gold ring, "Simply."

-===**MERLIN**===-

**Author's Note: I do not know why exactly I decided to write this. It seemed like I was dreaming when I did last night. I was reading some Arthurian legends and novels and noticed that they all depicted Merlin as any other man that lusted for a woman and payed dearly for it. I then read M.K Humes' King Arthur: Warrior of the West and saw Merlin and Nimue's pure love for each other despit the age difference. It emphasised Merlin or Myrddion's sacrifices he made in order for Arthur to become king and asking nothing in return, and how he just simply fell head over heals in love with Nimue and how she did the same. This was ultimately still what led to the down fall of King Artor** **for the great Merlin and Nimue had left Camelot and lived well...happily ever after. I of course, love Merlin, he is my most favourite characters in the Arthur legends and the series provided little to nothing in it for Merlin but a doom to be alone. Actually a lot if not all bounds of literature do. I just wish to be different.**


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